The First Message

The rain had been falling since afternoon.

Tiny droplets slid down the glass window of Ishika's room, blurring the view of the street outside. The sky was painted in shades of grey, and the gentle sound of rainfall filled the silence that lingered inside her room.

Her textbooks lay open across her desk, untouched for almost an hour.

"I'll start studying in five minutes," she whispered to herself for what felt like the twentieth time.

Instead, she continued scrolling through her phone.

A funny video.

A few messages from friends.

Another video.

Then suddenly—

A notification appeared.

Friend Request Received.

Ishika frowned.

She tapped on the profile.

Aarav Mehta.

No profile picture.

Only a few posts.

No mutual friends.

The account looked so plain that it almost seemed suspicious.

She stared at the screen for a moment.

Who sends friend requests to strangers?

Her thumb hovered over the decline button.

Yet something stopped her.

Perhaps it was curiosity.

Perhaps boredom.

Or perhaps fate had already made its decision.

With a small shrug, she accepted the request.

Then she tossed her phone aside and forced herself to look at her chemistry notes.

Five minutes later, her phone vibrated again.

A message.

She glanced at the screen.

Hi.

Just one word.

No introduction.

No explanation.

No awkward pickup line.

Just "Hi."

For some reason, that made her smile.

She typed back.

Hello. Do I know you?

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Finally, a reply arrived.

Not yet.

Ishika laughed.

"Definitely suspicious."

Her fingers flew across the keyboard.

That's probably the most suspicious answer possible.

A few seconds later another message arrived.

Sorry. I didn't mean to sound weird.

The response surprised her.

Most strangers online tried too hard to continue conversations.

This one sounded ready to disappear.

And somehow that made her curious.

Then why did you send me a request?

This time the reply took longer.

When it arrived, it was unexpectedly simple.

I saw your comment on a photography page. It made me laugh.

She blinked.

That wasn't what she expected.

You sent a friend request because of a comment?

I know. Sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.

A smile crept onto her face.

Outside, the rain continued falling.

Inside, neither of them realized that a conversation meant to last five minutes was about to stretch for hours.

They talked about photography.

Then music.

Then movies.

Then childhood memories.

The conversation flowed so naturally that Ishika lost track of time completely.

For the first time in a long while, talking to someone felt effortless.

There was no pressure to impress.

No pressure to pretend.

Just words.

Simple, ordinary words.

Yet somehow they felt important.

At midnight, Ishika finally glanced at the clock and nearly dropped her phone.

"Twelve already?"

A message appeared instantly.

Let me guess. You just noticed the time.

Her eyes widened.

How did you know?

Lucky guess.

She rolled her eyes.

You talk too much.

And yet you're still here.

For a moment, she stared at the screen.

Then, unexpectedly, she found herself smiling.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe she was still there because she wanted to be.

And maybe, just maybe, this wasn't going to be an ordinary friendship.

Neither of them knew it yet.

But that single message—one simple "Hi" on a rainy evening—was about to change both their lives forever.

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